


Trains and Tribulations

by Enigma3000



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Boys In Love, Drabble, Fluff, I blame mehan, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Trains, aman's anxiety is a bitch, grammar who, i wrote this in less than an hour my apologies, inspired by the train picture, kaju barfis, literally just fluff, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma3000/pseuds/Enigma3000
Summary: An unclean train floor, reassurances over lunch, and two men in love.AKA: The still from the train, but in motion.
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 37





	Trains and Tribulations

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Kya soch rahe ho?: what are you thinking?
> 
> Meri jaan: my love (but like. Better)

The train floor was dirty.

That was all that was on Aman’s mind, right then.

The train floor was dirty (they’re always dirty), and Kartik was sitting on it

And he was going to get indian railway floor grime on the jeans Aman had bought him after he tore his old ones (why Kartik would try hopping a fence, Aman still didn’t understand).

And he would wipe his hands on his pants after washing them (as always).

And then he would fall sick.

And then he would give their relationship away, and-

Okay.

_ Maybe _ there was something else on his mind.

“Kya soch rahe ho?” Kartik asked, slowly chewing on the parathas he had packed for himself. And Aman too, of course. Not that it mattered. He was too nervous to even think about eating, anyway.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” Aman replied (lied).

Kartik took a deep breath, then let out a small chuckle. Two years of being together, plus another year of being best friends with Aman had taught Kartik more than enough about the man to see right through him. Kartik knew what Aman was thinking about. Of course he did, he wasn’t stupid (most of the time, at least).

“Meri jaan,” Kartik smiled, intentionally using the nickname Aman hated. Just because.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Even with his back turned, Kartik could practically see Aman cringing.

The soft  _ “ugh-” _ that left Aman’s mouth was only confirmation of what he already knew.

Kartik laughed to himself, took another rather large bite of his food (by god, he was a good cook), and let his sleepy head fall backwards. 

The sight of his boyfriend’s face, contorted in worry and slight annoyance, as it was, didn’t fail to render his heart. He knew he would hear plenty about how dangerous it was to engage in affection of this sort but a compartment away from Aman’s family, but for now, Kartik’s head was demanding to be rested somewhere, and Aman’s lap made a very comfortable pillow.

As it always did.

“Hi.”

Aman looked down at him.

“...hi?”

Kartik smiled even wider, having successfully managed to catch his boyfriend’s attention. It was the same smile Aman had grown to love, the one that reached his eyes and made little creases in the corners. Something halfway between amusement and serenity. Something that radiated warmth.

He had only ever seen a smile like that on Kartik’s face. 

Nowhere else.

Perhaps he didn’t even need to see it anywhere else.

Aman couldn’t help but smile softly at him in return. Even through the haze of nerves.

Damn this man.

“It’ll be okay, Aman.”

_ Would it, really? _

He wanted to believe Kartik, he really did, but his paranoia wouldn’t let him. All Aman could think about was the possibility of his parents walking in on them, or Kartik (or even Aman himself) unintentionally letting something slip in the middle of a conversation, or-

“Hey. listen to me.” 

Aman blinked.

“We’re going to be okay. Because it’s you and me. And we’ve been through so much together, yeah? We’ve gone more than two whole years hiding ourselves. With a 100% success rate too, if I may remind you. These three days are nothing.”

The earnest, insistent look in Kartik’s eyes, in sharp contrast to the complete lack of worry on his face got through to Aman. A little bit, anyway.

“They won’t realise a damn thing. I don’t need to tell you how ignorant these people can be,” they chuckled at the terribly unsubtle allusion to homophobia- subtlety wasn’t Kartik’s strongest suit.

“Hell, we had ourselves convinced for a good few months that we’re just friends. Convincing these people will be nothing.”

Kartik did make a really strong point there, Aman supposed. Amusing as it was.

“Now feed me another kaju barfi.”

Aman laughed lightly, reaching into the open box beside him to deposit his boyfriend’s favourite sweet in his mouth. He watched Kartik chew on it slowly, with an utterly pleased, rather adorable smile, and let his fingers linger on Kartik’s cheek for a second. He wanted to bend down, maybe leave a little kiss on his forehead- and then decided against it.

_ Well, maybe a little later. _

He realised, suddenly, how glad he was that Kartik had insisted on coming with him. Insisted on being there for Aman, while he was forced to assume an identity that wasn’t his own. Insisted on being his safe space, somewhere he could be himself, even amidst his family.

Kartik was here. With him. 

_ For  _ him.

Of course it would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I said someone really ought to drabble the train still. Mehan said "do it." Dhanya said "DO IT." I said "give me an hour and a half."
> 
> So, an hour and a half later, here we are.


End file.
